A Walk After Dark Page 18
Then she frowned. “Where did her stiletto come from?”
Miranda answered as she continued cutting Melisande’s sleeve. “She pulled it from her clothes as we fought.”
Pantheros put one hand under Melisande’s chin and turned her face to his. “Is there more?” His deep voice rumbled out, surprisingly gentle.
Melisande looked at him as though hypnotized. “No more knives.” He raised a brow in question. “There are four pins tipped with knockout solution hidden in my support garments. I’ll not use them now.”
He looked to Cyn. “I’ll remove them when Miranda is done.”
Raphael crouched beside Miranda to watch, obviously not willing to simply trust the safety of his chosen to anyone else. But, otherwise, the group turned away from them.
Cassandra’s attention went to Eric. How long would the raver be unconscious? Ty moved to her side and gathered her close. “Do not worry about him. His breathing and heart have stopped.”
She had killed him! “The solution, he swallowed some in addition to what the broken glass put in his body. I’ve never given anyone more than a tiny amount before…”
Ty cuddled her closer. Cyn joined him in holding Cassandra, the warmth of his touch in direct contrast to coldness of his words. “We’d have had to kill him anyway. It’s just too bad we didn’t get to question him first. At least we can still question Melisande as to what Ammon’s next steps might be.”
Cassandra was once again reminded that Cyn always looked beyond the moment to plan his own next steps. Yet the way he held her with shaking hands also reminded her of the tender lover only she and Ty would see.
Ty spoke again. “We won at the river tunnel also. As soon as our men from the keep are here, the brethren forces can go to Ammon’s old base camp. There will only be a small number of ravers left there. If we move quickly, we can lure them out and kill them before they further harm any of the women. As for Ammon, we know he will back sooner or later, as long as we hold Melisande.”
* * * * *
We’ve won! The brotherhood, the brethren of ravers is smashed. At least for now. Cyn’s lips pressed in a tight smile. Ammon had gotten away. He still had his formula, his mixture for controlling ravers. Until the leader of the bastardized ravers was dead, there was still danger. But now I know about you. My eyes are everywhere, you bastard. You will not run free long.
Melisande was also trouble. She knew his secret, but had not told her brother.
Ammon might deduce it on his own, since Cyn had very obviously survived Cassandra’s potion, lethal to ordinary men, but acted only to temporarily knockout changers. Then again, Cyn had only been hit in the arm with the drugged dart. Ammon might think Cyn merely lucky, that he had not received a full dose.
In any case, questioning Melisande had proved useless. She knew no more than he about where her brother would go next. He was getting her out of the way for now. Pantheros was taking her to Cyn’s mountain allies, the Chema. They were extremely good at keeping secrets. They had secrets of their own.
Adeena arrived less than one bell’s time after the brethren finished off the invading ravers. Cyn genuinely smiled at the way she constantly kept some of his men with her, frustrating Darius’s attempts to get her alone. Instead, she worked with Marcus, organizing clean-up operations and preparations to aid the women the brethren freed from the remnants of the ravers. Now Darius and Ty were gone with the brethren to do just that. Additionally, Cyn also had a more personal task Adeena planned for him.
In the next room, he heard Cassandra exclaim “Wedding plans? After all that has happened, I just want to sleep for a week. I certainly don’t want to think about anything as complex as a formal wedding.” Ah, Adeena was taking a moment to discuss that personal task with Cassandra now.
“That’s all right,” came the much too cheerful voice of Adeena. “I’ve already started the plans. I’ll just take care of everything.”
He heard Cassandra groan and mutter, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
* * * * *
In the healer’s bedroom, Miranda delved into Raphael’s travel bag and pulled out a long, slender, silvery rope. Cyn had generously shared with her how to use it when she expressed distress over Raphael’s exhausted state and her feeling he should stay in bed resting for a couple of days. Raphael had scoffed at the idea that he needed rest now, saying he would sleep for an hour only and then join the brethren in their attack on the raver base camp. She knew better.
Once he shut his eyes, she carefully pricked him with a sliver of the broken vial of knockout potion. She would have him tied up and waiting, um, resting, before it wore off.
He woke surprisingly fast. She barely completed her last knot and triggered the Oryion rope.
“Miranda,” he began with a lazy grin, only to have his eyes widen in surprise when he tried to move and found himself bound. “What do you think you are doing? I must go!”
He tried for a wicked grin, but looked a little panicked. “I’ll let you tie me up later, or maybe I’ll tie you. This is no time for this!”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, Raphael. I saw the way you struggled in the fight with that raver. And you told me how you have lived these past few months. So, healer’s orders: you are going to get some rest. You might as well get used to it and settle in now. No activities, out of bed anyway, for the next two days. Now I must go help with final medicinal preparations for the women we will receive, so you rest for now. I will be back later. Don’t worry, I intend to take very good care of you.”
Miranda gave him an angelic smile and left. Raphael might resist resting when he thought he should go to the fight, but there was one part of him that, she noticed, liked where he was just fine.
She continued smiling to herself. Oh, yes, she would take excellent care of him.
Kirra Pierce
Bio? Kirra is spy/secret agent who disarms nuclear bombs in her spare time. Uh, wait, what was that, Loowis? The real world me? But that’s sooo boring. Oh, all right.
I am actually a mom who used to haunt the halls of corporate research and write excruciatingly boring technical reports, but who can now be found at PTO meetings, chaperoning school outings, helping with homework assignments ‑‑ you get the idea. My homemaking seems to bounce between June Cleaver aspirations and Peg Bundy deliverables. A neat home is lovely, but wouldn’t you rather be reading? I obviously would.
I’ve always loved fantasy and while my body may be in this world my mind is usually someplace much more interesting. I don’t care for tepid anything in fiction. Hot heroes, savvy heroines, and an edge of danger are all things I look for in a book and what I hope to deliver to you.